


o death

by orphan_account



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For never was there a story of more woe than that of Juliet and her Romeo." (Written for days five and six of Romeo and Juliet Week)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The world was broken.

It had shattered before his eyes; leaked out with the blood of Mercutio, split open like Tybalt's flesh at the point of his sword, fled from him the same way he was forced to flee from Verona, fallen at his feet the just as Paris's body had. But only now, with his love- his one, true love, his Juliet- lying cold and still before him was the world truly, irreparably broken.

Romeo fell to his knees by her side, and it seemed to him as if the ground was crumbling around them. The world had sunk into dust and shadow, and all that remained now was him, the corpse of his love, and the little bottle in his hand.

His fault... if only he had never acted so rashly. If only he had never left Verona, if only he hadn't murdered her cousin, if only he had never tried to get between Mercutio and Tybalt's blades. If only, if only, if only he had never left his Juliet. If only there was still a future stretched out in front of him. If only there was a single person left to him. If only Juliet could hold him in her arms one last time, gently stroke his face, press her soft lips to his...

He pressed her lifeless hand to his forehead, and a strangled sob escaped him. This was his fault. He had disgraced his family, forfeited everything, spilled innocent blood, and worst of all he had lost the love of his life. Now there was just one thing left for him to do. He had nothing left for him.

In Mantua he could have lived in peace just knowing that Juliet still breathed, still waited for him. But now... without Juliet, there was no world. There was no life left for him aside from the needless blood in his veins. All that he needed to do now was to still that as well.

He hoped that Juliet would know he was sorry. That his mother would not weep over his body, that his cousin would not live the rest of his life lost and alone. He hoped that Tybalt had not suffered for long, that Paris had been at peace with his final request. He hoped they knew that he regretted taking their lives. He hoped Mercutio forgave him before his death, for inadvertently causing it.

He hoped Juliet was waiting for him.

He was tired. He had spent his life dreaming, wishing for a love he had always known existed. Now he had found it, only to lose it so suddenly, so easily. It wasn't fair.

He was so tired of living. He could go on no longer.

Slowly, he uncapped the bottle. He took a breath; air flooded his lungs, his eyes beheld the placid face of his love. He tipped the poison back and swallowed the contents in one.

Almost immediately he could feel his lungs seize; a sharp pain was sent through his chest and stomach, and with a gasping groan he fell forward , his head upon Juliet's casket. Painstakingly, he raised himself; half-collapsing upon her body, he pressed one furious kiss to his Juliet's lips. Slowly, he parted from her, and his head fell upon her chest; he could no longer draw any air into his lungs. His pulse was slowing; his brain could not longer think of anything but seeing Juliet once more in a matter of seconds. _I am coming, my love. Be there to greet me._

His heart stilled; his eyes slid shut, and the world faded into emptiness.


	2. Chapter 2

As one heart ceased beating, another slowly began to regain its rhythm. Blood began to loosen, to flow through living veins; color began to cast away the flush of death, warmth returned to frigid limbs, and Juliet Capulet opened her eyes.

At first she wasn't conscious of much; a voice in the background, someone she should recognize, but most distinctly the scent and feel and touch of her lover. Her Romeo; her husband, the love of her life. He had come for her at last.

It was as she rose to consciousness more and more, her surroundings growing ever clearer, that she realized just how things had gone horribly wrong.

She had lost him. She had planned so carefully, hoped, prayed, given up her family for him... and now he was gone. She would never kiss him again, never hold him, never see his wide smile or the light in his gleaming blue eyes.

The world stood around her, torn to shambles, hanging in vague and indistinct nothings. And in the middle of it all lay Romeo- lifeless. Empty. Gone.

 _Love..._ what was love? Could she ever feel love again now that the one she had given her heart to was gone? Did she even have a right to live after Romeo had taken his own life for her?

There was no question; she had to follow him. Nothing else was left to her; what life could she live now? Spend her days a nun? Return home, to marry a man she could never bring herself to love? Forget her husband forever? Forget Romeo, leave him behind like he refused to do for her?

She had to follow. In desperation, as Friar Laurence fled, she cast the small bottle that had been his poison to the ground and pressed her lips to his. She almost drew back at the sheer emptiness of the kiss; his lips tasted bitter, lifeless, but worst of all- oh god, they were warm. One minute more... had Romeo almost waited a minute...

The potion left her still feeling sluggish, her senses dulled; she wondered if, for the time being, she could simply sit with him forever. Cradle him in her arms, abandon the rest of the world, hope beyond foolish hope that he would open his eyes once more. But that was not to be; she could hear footsteps approaching in the tomb, loud voices calling out, and she knew she had mere seconds. It had to be now.

 _I'm coming._ She pressed a kiss to Romeo's temple, her hands fumbling at his belt until they withdrew a dagger. _Wait for me, my love. You won't be alone._

She took a deep breath and drove the dagger through her chest.

Immediately, she could feel in pierce her lungs; she drew back, letting out a strangled gasp, and collapsed beside her love. Her instinct was to struggle for air she could not find, and as the footsteps surely grew bearer she found them slowly fading out of existence. Her arms pulled Romeo close, hugging him to her; she squeezed her eyes shut, cashing a lay glimpse of Romeo's face, and allowed herself to sleep again.


End file.
